


Dance In The Dark

by phoenixjustice



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan)
Genre: M/M, Masks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 16:01:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/623969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixjustice/pseuds/phoenixjustice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-TDK.</p><p>It was so risky, but he had to; he'd do anything to get his Batsy. Anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance In The Dark

Disclaimer: The Dark Knight, Batman, etc are owned by DC and other respective owners. I only own this story and make no profit from this.

  
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Halloween. The one day of the year where everyone dressed up and put on visible masks, unlike the ones they wore in their daily lives. The one day where someone like the Joker would flourish.

It had been months since he arrived in Gotham and he had enjoyed himself immensely, for the most part anyway. He _had_ caused mayhem and chaos, had shoved the truth in many people's faces, blown up buildings, took out many people, but he had yet to capture the Batman's attention in the way he wanted; he _got_ attention and they _did_ have many fist fights, but it hadn't moved any further than that.

So he decided to go out on a limb and show Batman more than he had to any other person, emotionally. This meant that his mask would have to come off so he could meet the Batman on a different ground; and that meant that he would also have to face Bruce Wayne and hope to get past that facade that the man wore so well.

Oh yes, he most assuredly knew that Bruce Wayne was Batman, or he should say that he knew that Batman was Bruce Wayne; for the man known as Bruce Wayne was the fake thing, the false thing, and Batman was the real man.

Jack Napier would come out to play for the first time in many, many years. It was so risky, but he had to; he'd do anything to get his Batsy.

Anything.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Gotham's annual Trick or Treat for Charity ball was well underway. Unfortunately for him, he was Bruce Wayne, so it was all but manditory that he attend; he could only use so many excuses at a time, and he didn't want to have a stare off with Alfred--that man could make anyone squirm with just a look. Plus, this sort of thing was good for his image.

He just hated that it had to be a costume ball. Ironic, considering how much the batsuit was like a second skin to him. But this was different; a different setting, different people to deal with. At least as Batman, if someone annoyed him or bothered him, he could get those fists flying, but Bruce Wayne couldn't do that. It irked him to no end.

For his costume for the ball, he chose a simple, yet elegant, black suit (tailored made of course--he had that image to uphold...)and a black mask; just one that covered his eyes, as he sincerely doubted that anyone would look at him twice and say 'oh my god! It's the Batman!'

He stands near the refreshment station, sipping at a glass of champagne. He was dateless for this event; not because he couldn't find anyone (that wasn't any problem--his money drew people in like flies to honey), but because he couldn't subject anyone to these sorts of social situations; growing up around them, he could definitely envy the ones who didn't run in any social circle and did their own thing, people like--

He shakes his head, not wanting to think about that. Some of it was that he had lost Rachel, his oldest and dearest friend. He thought he had loved her...but the Joker had made him realize some things about himself; things that he didn't necessarily want to know at first, but he couldn't deny them to himself any longer. He had cared for Rachel, had loved her even, but had loved her as a sister, as a close and dear friend, but he had never been in love with her.

He realized that he had _wanted_ to be in love with her, but never had been. Wanted to, because she represented a part of his life that he would never have; the normalcy of a relationship, something stable and safe. That part of his life was over from the moment he put on the cowl and cape; he would never have a _normal_ relationship because _he_ wasn't normal. So the dreams he had tried so helplessly to hold onto had been pushed subconsciously onto Rachel and no...he couldn't tarnish the memory of her with something that was false.

The Joker had come into his life in a blaze of fire and blood, laughter and bullets, screams and tears. The clown prince had not only come into his life so suddenly and caused it to turn on its head, but he had forced Bruce into a position where he could no longer hide from the truth.

He had hated the man for it.

He loved the man.

He hated that the Joker said that he completed him.

He knew it was true.

He hated that he wanted the man who had caused Rachel's death and broke Harvey Dent

His arms sometimes ached in the moments that he would strike the man, wanting to pull him closer.

He hated that the criminal skirted on the edge, that he never took that next step; no matter how obvious it was that he wanted the Batman.

He waited for the Joker to bridge that final distance between them, a small sign, _something_ ; he couldn't make that first move. He couldn't...

"Pretty boring party isn't it, Mr. Wayne?"

He turns his head.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

He rubs his face; it felt weird without the makeup he had applied to it for so long now. He messes with his hair a bit; pushing back the curvy blonde hair to look a bit more manageable. That was another thing; no dye in the hair. A bit of latex and other products to cover his scars, as if they had never existed. And none of his usual clothing either. He was going out on more than a limb for his Brucey, so the man better damn well appreciate it!

He straightens up, adjusting his suit and tie, approaching the beefy looking bouncer who was apparently the head honcho outside the door to the swanky party inside. He puts a wad of cash in the man's hands and walks inside; all that was required for the party was money, so he got some (he was pretty sure the dead man he took it off wouldn't be wanting it anymore.) It disgusted him, what money did to people. He didn't care for money. He was a man of simple tastes. The things he liked, like matches and gunpowder, could be bought cheap. Ironic that he didn't care for money when the man he loved was one of the wealthiest men in the world.

Irony, ha ha...

He passes by partygoers, looking this way and that, amused at some costumes (one man wore a bowler hat and a suit littered with question marks all over it), disgusted at some (that skinny little twit thought he could pull off what his Batsy did?)until he gets near the refreshment table and his eyes lock onto what he had been searching for. Bruce Wayne 10 o' clock. And looking ve--rr--yy delicious in that suit and mask...can't resist wearing a mask can you, Batsy?

"Pretty boring party isn't it, Mr. Wayne?"

Bruce turns his head towards him.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

His breath catches in his throat.

He had always been the one to look at the ladies, appreciate their beauty, never a man's, but...

Something about this man struck a chord in him; he was so...

He wore a dark blue suit that was cut perfectly on the man and it showed off the curves and like of the man in such a way. Something about the way he stood was familiar to him. His hair was a mass of short blonde waves that looked as if they had been hastily brushed back a bit. His face was...very handsome. _Very_.

He felt that spark inside him grow.

"Something that catches your eye, Mr. Wayne?"

He stills, flushing at being caught ogling the man, (he didn't seem to be costumed...)especially when he had in his life ever only looked at one man...

"I--" He looks into the man's eyes and freezes. Those eyes...

Those green eyes had haunted him from waking moment to restless sleep, in good ways and bad. He would know those eyes _anywhere_.

"J--" he starts to say, voice slightly choked with emotion.

The Joker (there was no one else it _could_ be; no other person who ever made him feel like this. Where were his scars...? Was this man the Joker's costume? The man beneath the make-up being the mask of the Joker, like Bruce Wayne was the Batman's mask?)stretches out his hand and Bruce finds himself staring at it for a long moment, throat dry.

This was what he had been waiting for.

He grasps the Joker's hand and looks back up to see the man smile at him, making his heart race in his chest. Such a strange thing to see the man smile without those scars...

"Jack Napier,"said the Joker quietly. "It's nice to finally meet _you_ , Brucey. Batman and the Joker are _we--llll_ acquainted, but Jack and Bruce aren't."

He yanks the man forward, looking into his face for a moment before dipping his head down to kiss him. He felt the Joker, Jack (did he just give Bruce his real name?), stiffen in surprise before kissing him back wholeheartedly, making shivers run down his back He didn't think about any of the people in the room who might look on the sight strangely; there were only two people in the world who he truly cared for. One was clear across town in Wayne Manor and the other was right here in his arms.

He pulls away.

"...Jack?" He asks quietly. "Let's get out of here; I'm tired of all these masks."

The Joker's eyes light up and the grin he gets rewarded with made up for an otherwise lousy night.

"Me too, Brucey. Me too. ...Maybe we might get lucky enough to catch the Joker and the Batman in action tonight. ...The Joker's known to hate this sort of shit."

Bruce smirks.

"He is. And I'm pretty sure that Batman does too. Too many people keeping their masks on."

They start to walk out.

"What do you suppose the Batman would do if say, the Joker wanted to blow the joint?"

"...He'd probably try and stop him."

"With his fists?"

"Most definitely."

"Ooh, I always knew he was a kinky one--"

Their laughter fills the streets littered with costumed folk; two people in a crowd of liars.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

 


End file.
